


Some Might Call It That

by eternaleponine



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-14
Updated: 2010-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus appears in Alec's bedroom after the battle in Idris.  Contains spoilers through book 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Might Call It That

Alec closed the door of his borrowed bedroom quietly, then turned and stumbled back against it with a yelp.  "Magnus!"

"At your service," the warlock said with a grin.  He was decked out in vivid purple silk pajamas, sprawled on the bed, the blankets pulled up to his waist.  He held them open, obviously an invitation for Alec to join him.

"You can't be here!" Alec hissed.  "My parents!"

"Already know," Magnus said.

Alec blinked, his mouth hanging open.  "That you're here?"

"Well, no, not that part," he admitted.  "But about us.  _Everyone_ knows about us."  The smile on the Downworlder's face was pleased, bordering on smug.

The younger man blushed, spots of color staining his cheeks.  "They might hear you... us," he sputtered.

"No one will hear anything that happens in this room if I don't want them to," Magnus said dismissively.  Alec blanched, and Magnus's forehead furrowed as it dawned on him that his choice of words in the aftermath of Alec's brother being killed and adoptive brother nearly so was perhaps a poor one.  "I'm sorry.  That came out sounding more threatening than I'd intended.  I only meant that I can make sure no one overhears if we don't want them to." 

He sat up and held out his hand, the one marked with the Alliance rune, the twin of which was scarred into Alec's own skin.  "Come to bed.  You're exhausted."

Alec took a step forward, almost as if he was being drawn against his will.  "I'm not tired."

"I didn't say tired, I said exhausted.  You're wavering on your feet."  He extended his hand farther.  "I won’t beg.  Or bite.  Unless you want me to."

The young Shadowhunter staggered forward another step, sliding his hand into the other man's.

Magnus smiled and drew him closer, keeping hold of his hand as he clambered into the tall bed.  He flipped the blankets over Alec's legs and released his hand, but only so he could slide his arms around the young man's thin frame.  "There.  Not so bad, is it?"

Alec shook his head.  "No.  It's not bad." 

Magnus felt Alec shaking, and tipped up his chin.  He was surprised, or maybe not, to see tears beading in his eyelashes.  He planted a tender kiss on each eyelid.  "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," Alec mumbled, pressing his cheek into the warlock's touch.  "I don't know.  Nothing's wrong.  It's just..."

"A lot.  I know."  He stroked the Nephilim's back, his fingers finding the edge of his worn t-shirt, slipping underneath to brush over his skin.  He traced over the scars, ones he could feel and ones he couldn't but he knew were there anyway, from battle wounds and faded Marks.  "I know."

"I could have lost you," Alec whimpered.  "I could have, and you wouldn't have ever known..."

"But you didn't," Magnus reassured him.  "And I know now.  So don't get yourself worked up over the 'what if's.  Our entire lives could be built of 'what if's and 'if only's if we let them be.  But this doesn't have to be one of them."

The younger man blinked up at him.  "When did you..."  But he wasn't sure what exactly what he wanted to ask, and finally settled on, "...get to be so smart?  Wise, whatever you want to call it."

"Oh... I would say two or three hundred years ago."  He grinned, and was thrilled when the rather lame joke earned him a laugh.  He tipped Alec's face up again and kissed him on the mouth this time, anything but shy, and didn't stop until all of the tension Alec held had melted away, leaving him warm and pliable in Magnus's arms.  "There now.  That's much better."  He threaded his fingers through the silky black strands of Alec's hair.  "May I ask what changed tonight?"

"When Clary showed what she could do... when we all saw the person we loved most...  I saw you.  I couldn't exactly keep denying it when it was literally staring me in the face, could I?  And then thinking this might be the last night we ever had?  My last chance?  I didn't want to be paired with anyone else.  I didn't want anyone else paired with you.  And I needed for you to know, beyond doubt, that if you or I died tonight, that I loved you."

"Love me," Magnus corrected.  "Not past tense.  Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No.  Love you."

"I love you too."  He laid Alec back against the pillows, stretching out beside him and drawing him close, pressing kisses along his throat and jaw, and then capturing his lips and losing himself in kissing the young Nephilim.  He let his hands wander a bit, more than he ever allowed himself before.  He'd always been afraid he'd scare skittish Alec away.  This time, though, he thought he might be able to throw a little of his caution to the wind.

Long fingers stroked down Alec's sides, drifting over sharp hipbones and drawing a low, soft moan from the boy's lips.  He traced the waistband of his pajama pants and laughed softly at the sharp intake of breath that resulted.  "I should let you sleep," he murmured.

"Not sleepy," Alec breathed, his back arching slightly at the touch.

"No?  But it's been such a long night..."

"My mind won't stop, though."

Magnus smiled.  "I can help you with that."

"Magic?" Alec asked, biting his lip as the tips of Magnus's fingers dipped below the elastic of his waistband.  He knew he ought to tell him to stop, but the truth was he was soaking up the attention like a parched plant.  After so much pain and death, the thrilling of his nerves with pleasure was a welcome change.

A warm chuckle filled his ear.  "Some might call it that."  The hand wormed its way lower, and Magnus wrapped his arm tighter around Alec.  He was rewarded by the boy's arms finally slipping around him in return.

"A rune?" Alec asked breathlessly.

"Oh, I daresay it will be far less painful than that."  The mage's amber eyes twinkled, and he grinned wickedly as his fingers closed around Alec's cock.  He felt it grow hard in his hand, and the Shadowhunter's bright blue eyes went wide.

"Oh," he breathed.  He made no move to stop Magnus as he began to stroke his length.  His fingers clenched in the silk of his pajamas, the tips digging into his skin underneath.  "Ohh..."

"It's good, isn't it?" Magnus asked.  He didn't really expect an answer.  Alec's whimpering moans, muffled against his shoulder, were enough.  "Yes.  Just relax and enjoy."

For once, by some miracle, he did.  Alec sought Magnus's mouth, kissing him deeply, almost desperately.  His fingers clutched at any part of him he could reach, knotting in his pajamas and then in his hair.  Waves of sensation rolled over him, and he was almost surprised when they finally gathered and crested and broke, spilling his seed into Magnus's hand.

The warlock waved away the mess with a flick of his wrist and withdrew his hand, sliding it up to rest over Alec's heart instead, feeling its pounding and rapid rise and fall of his panting breath.  "Think you can sleep now?" he asked, knowing that the release was likely reaching Alec's brain already, lulling him quickly into peaceful rest.

"What about you?" the young man asked.

"Don't you worry your pretty head about me tonight," Magnus said.  "I'll sleep just fine."

Alec thought he ought to protest, but Magnus's hand rubbing gentle circles over his heart sent him quickly to sleep.

 

Alec woke up with something over his chest, pinning him down.  He panicked, starting to struggle until he heard Magnus's voice, heavy with sleep, in his ear.  "Hush, love.  It's all right."  He remembered the night before, how Magnus had snuck in, and relaxed.  The mage pressed closer against him, and Alec turned to kiss him. 

He had to be careful not to let it get too heated, though, when he wasn't exactly sure of the time, and Max—Max was dead.  He wouldn't be knocking on the door to summon him to breakfast.  His breath caught, and he broke the kiss to bury his face against Magnus's shoulder.

The Downworlder frowned.  "I've always been told I was an excellent kisser, and yet I seem to keep making you cry."

Alec laughed, but it came out sounding like a hiccup.  "It's not you."

"I know," Magnus said gently.  "I just wanted to make you smile."

Alec extricated himself from Magnus's arms.  "You should probably go."

Magnus's cat-like eyes widened.  "It was a joke," he said.  "A bad one, admittedly, but..."  His voice trailed off, looking at Alec as he stood beside the bed, his back turned.  "What?  What now?"  He couldn't keep an edge of annoyance from creeping into his voice.  He'd thought they had moved past all of the 'I want you but only if it's a secret' business, or whatever it was that was suddenly making Alec pull away.  He reached out to touch his arm.  "Alec.  Turn around.  Talk to me."

Alec turned, his jaw working as he searched for words.  When he spoke, his voice was choked and hoarse.  "Magnus.  There's nothing I'd like more than to curl up with you and let you be my entire world for a little while, but—"

"Then do it!"  Alec flinched, and Magnus shook his head.  "Alec, you can't..."  He stopped himself.  He didn't want to yell, but the Nephilim _had_ to understand.  "You think I don't know.  That I can't possibly understand what you're going through.  But I think I may see things more clearly than you do."  He reached out and took his hands.  "All of your life, you've done as you're told, as you've been expected to do, always the obedient eldest son.  You've been a warrior.  You _are_ a warrior, and now you don't know how to surrender.  You don't know how to let go and let yourself have what you want instead of what you think you're allowed.  I am _yours_ , Alexander Lightwood, if you want me.  But not as a secret.  Not only in hiding.  You kissed me in front of entire Clave.  The cat is out of the bag, angel.

"I promise that I will be the very soul of discretion and decorum in front of your parents," Magnus said, his expression serious.  "I'm not trying to make things difficult for you or your family.  But I love you, Alec, and I don't care who knows it."

Alec just stared at him for a long time, then slowly removed his hands from Magnus's grasp.  The mage froze, watching him to see which way he would go.  Would he pull away, turn his back again, end it before they'd really begun?

But no.  Alec reached out and very carefully laid his hands on either side of the warlock's face, and leaned down to kiss him tenderly.  "I want you," he said.  "I don't care who knows.  My parents—"

Magnus tensed.  "You're an adult, Alec."

The Nephilim kissed him again.  "I know.  I was going to say, 'My parents will get used to the idea.'  But I still live with them, and I'm not sure they're ready to have their son's boyfriend come down to breakfast with him when they were unaware he was there in the first place."

Jewel-bright eyes blinked slowly up at him.  "Boyfriend?"

"If you'll have me."

The speed with which he found himself engulfed in the flamboyant mage's arms was rather startling.  "I'll take that as a yes," he said with a soft laugh.

"It's a yes," Magnus confirmed.  "And I won't alarm your parents with my sudden appearance this morning.  I'll do this properly.  Get dressed."

Before Alec could respond, Magnus was gone.  He shook his head and got dressed.  He went downstairs to find that he was the last one to the table.  Family meals were rare, and the absence of Max was palpable.  Still, Maryse had made eggs and hadn't let Isabelle help, so things weren't all bad.

They were just settling in to eat when there was a knock at the door.  Isabelle bounced up to answer it, and came back a second later with Magnus in tow. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said, holding up a box of pastries from their favorite bakery in New York.  "I come bearing gifts."

If the Lightwoods had any misgivings about allowing the warlock to join them for breakfast, they were erased by the smile that lit up their elder, now only, son's face.

"Have a seat," Robert said.

"You can have mine," Isabelle said, surrendering the chair next to Alec and settling into a different one.

"Thank you," he said, and sat down.  He leaned over and murmured softly to Alec, "Careful.  Your face might freeze that way."

Alec's smile broadened.  He could imagine far worse fates.


End file.
